Better Days
by PiaculumDeFatum
Summary: SLASH. CSIxCSI:Miami Crossover. GregxRyan. Sequel to I Will Always Return. Greg and Ryan work on fixing their relationship, but will all be well in paradise, or are new obstacles going to be the breaking point?
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N_****: **_Hello everyone, and welcome to the latest chapter of the Ryan/Greg saga! Just a few quick things before we start:_

_1. This is a songfic in the regards that each chapter begins with a few lines from the song "Better Days" by the Goo Goo Dolls. _

_2. This is SLASH!! CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED!!_

_3. As aforementioned, this is a Ryan/Greg fic. As such, it obviously does not take place in any specific season, but I want to put a general spoiler warner out there that any material up to the current seasons (Season 9 for CSI and Season 7 for CSI: Miami) is fair game._

_4. Rated for language and angst, as per always. Un-beta'd, so blame me for any and all mistakes!_

_5. Please read and review! I love knowing what people think of the story, and it helps fuel the urge to write faster, so it's a win-win situation for all of us!_

_6. While I've said it in the past, this time I actually mean it: new chapter should be up about once a week. My schedule has calmed slightly so I should be able to adhere to this._

_7. CSI: and CSI: Miami belong to Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS and Alliance Atlantis. I own neither the characters nor the places nor yet the song. Only the plot._

_That should about wrap it up. Anything specific that comes along will be addressed as need be. In this chapter, the large italicized section is a flashback. The first part of the flashback is the very last part of _I Will Always Return_, and it continues on from there. This fic takes place a few weeks after the end of _I Will Always Return._ And now, for your reading pleasure:_

_**Better Days**_

Chapter 1

"_And you ask me what I want this year  
And I try to make this kind and clear  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"_

Happiness was subjective. Up for interpretation. Greg knew this. Greg also knew that this made it extremely easy to pretend like he was happy.

And he was happy. Really, he was. He was getting back into the swing of things at work. He was now a CSI Level 2, something that would've taken him years to achieve if he had stayed in Vegas. And he and Ryan were together. At least, proximity wise. They were working together, after all. But they weren't living together. Not yet, at least. Greg had gotten a temporary apartment while they tried to figure out their relationship. It was the logical, smart thing to do for a couple trying to get back together and build up a proper relationship, based on understanding, care, and trust.

Yeah, right.

Greg sighed, looking down at the shoe print he was supposed to be analyzing. The truth was, it had been hard. Things had not gone the way that Greg had planned for them to go. True, it had perhaps been a tad idealistic for him to assume that he could show up, announced, at Ryan's apartment and expect an open welcome, but he thought that they were in a stable, happy place.

Again, the truth was quite different. He, Greg, was in a happy, stable place. Of course, that was only because he, Greg, had just gone through two months of therapy and relaxation time in order to get his life back on track.

The door to the layout room banged open, and Ryan strode in, nose buried in a file folder. Greg cleared his throat. "Hey," he said, keeping his voice friendly.

Ryan looked up, clearly startled. "Oh. Hey," he said awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. "Um, I'll find another room to work in. I didn't know anyone was in here." He turned quickly to leave.

"Ryan, wait," said Greg, a hint of urgency in his voice. "You don't have to go, you know. I'm only analyzing this shoe print." He held it up as evidence attesting to this fact. "Why don't you stay? We can talk, maybe. Or we can work in silence. Whichever." Pausing, he added softly, "Just…stay."

Looking torn for a moment, Ryan's face softened. "I really can't," he said, his voice holding just a hint of regret. "I need to look over some evidence that will require my complete attention, and I don't want to distract you, either."

Greg struck a pose before purring in a false southern accent, "Why, Mr. Wolfe, are you implying that you find me distracting?"

This time, Ryan smiled for real. "You know I do," he answered, then he sobered quickly, the tension filling the room as quickly as it had left. "Anyway, I should go. Horatio said this is my top priority for the day." Smiling briefly, he turned and left.

Greg sighed deeply before burying his head in his hands. He was trying so much to prove that things hadn't changed, that they could go back to the way that they used to be, but Ryan just wasn't biting. And Greg wasn't sure what more he could do besides keep opening up to Ryan with hopes that Ryan would eventually open up, something he hadn't done since Greg's return.

Greg remembered all too well the day that he turned up at Ryan's apartment. It had been his first indication that things were not going to go as smoothly as he had planned them out in his head.

_Greg stood outside Ryan's door, grinning like an idiot and feeling as nervous as hell. "Hi," he said, his smile faltering slightly at Ryan's expression._

"_Hi," responded Ryan, raising an eyebrow. "What are you—" he started, but then Greg cut him off by striding forward and capturing Ryan's mouth with his own._

_The two kissed passionately for several minutes, then Greg released him. Ryan looked woozy and dazed in the same way that Greg felt woozy and dazed. "Well, it's nice to see you too," Ryan said, his expression still numb and void of the emotion that Greg had expected to see there._

_Greg reached out and grabbed Ryan's hand. "Look, Ryan, I am so, so sorry. More sorry than you will ever know," he began, running his other hand through his hair. "I told you once that I would never hurt you, and I know I did, in more ways than I will ever being to understand. But I love you. That's one thing that I've learned. I let all kinds of things get in the way of that love, but it's always been there, the one thing always shining bright and true in my life. And it's taken me a very long time to realize it, and I understand how angry you probably still are, but I want to let you know that I am here. And I'm not—" He paused for effect. "I am __**not**__ going anywhere, no matter what."_

_Still without emotion showing on his face, Ryan mumbled, "That was a very long run-on sentence." Then he closed his mouth, setting it into a firm and unyielding line. He eased his hand away from Greg's, though he looked the older man in the eyes, which seemed to chill Greg to the soul. "Why don't you come in?" Ryan said finally, the expression on his face softening just a little, though hardly showing the love and affection that Greg craved. "I think we have a lot to talk about."_

"_Yeah," said Greg quickly, a little too quickly and a little over-enthusiastic, perhaps. "Sure. I'll just come on in and we can have a nice little chat, and everything will be great." Mentally, he told himself, _Shut up, Sanders_. He was rambling, and he knew it, but he also knew that unless Ryan did something that made him feel just a little more comfortable, he was going to keep right on rambling._

_Ryan closed the door after him, and they both stood awkwardly in the foyer for a moment, until Ryan, remembering his manners, asked quickly, "Do you want anything to drink? I have water, soda, milk…"_

_Greg smiled weakly. "How about a scotch?" he said, only half-joking._

_Ryan's face fell, and he responded tightly, "I'm pretty sure I don't have any of that."_

_Reaching out to pat Ryan's shoulder comfortingly, Greg said calmly, "It was joke. Get it? Ha ha. Trying to ease the tension. You know." If it had been Greg's intention to ease the tension, it had failed miserably. If anything, the tension increased. Finally, Greg said stiffly, "Just water will be fine. Thanks."_

"_Right," said Ryan, jumping on the request as an excuse to remove himself from the situation. "Go ahead and have a seat," he called from the kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable."_

_Greg smiled sadly, noting Ryan's choice of words. He hadn't invited Greg to make himself "at home." Just a little reminder that this wasn't still Greg's home. At least, not yet. Greg meandered into the living room, smirking at the all-too-familiar couch. Oh, the dirty and wonderful things they had done on that couch. He took a seat and looked around. It was much the same. Ryan hadn't done much redecorating. The only thing conspicuously missing was any evidence that Greg had once lived here. There were no pictures of Ryan and Greg, no little reminders. Even the Build-a-Bear that Greg had made for Ryan had been put away, hidden somewhere. Out of sight, out of mind._

_Ryan reappeared, holding two glasses of water, taking care not to spill any. He handed a glass to Greg, then looked at the couch as if seeing it for the first time. Greg had no doubt that similar thoughts of their dirty deeds were now crossing Ryan's mind as well, but his reaction was slightly different, as he quickly settled himself in the armchair, declining to share the couch with Greg, _

_Taking a quick sip of water, Greg waited for a moment before mentioning, "I like what you've done with the place. Really. It's new, and bold. Totally suits you."_

_Ryan didn't even crack a style. "Greg, stop it," he said softly, cradling his glass in his hands and studiously avoiding Greg's gaze. "It's not funny. None of this is funny to me."_

"_Really?" Greg deadpanned, his eyes glittering with the humor. "Because I wasn't going for humor with that one. I really mean it. I think the shift of the TV to right by that one or two inches is a perfect touch. Totally redefines the feng shui of the room."_

"_Stop it," Ryan said, not an ounce of humor in his voice. In fact, Greg noticed that Ryan's knuckles had gone white from gripping his glass so hard. "I meant it the first time. It's not funny."_

_Greg's forehead furrowed, and he leaned forward, trying to force Ryan to meet his eyes. "Ryan—" he started, and then Ryan did look at him. Greg was startled to see tears in Ryan's eyes. "Ryan, what's wrong?" he asked, much more serious than before._

_Ryan laughed, but it was without humor. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch and volume. "What's wrong?! I don't know, Greg, what could possibly be wrong? You've only been in rehab for the past two months because you started doing drugs after you walked out and went back to Vegas, but nothing's wrong. Everything is peachy-fucking-keen."_

_Greg was genuinely taken aback, He had not expected this kind of unbridled anger. "Look," he said, tentatively. "I understand that you're angry—"_

"_Angry?" laughed Ryan mirthlessly. "No, Greg, I'm not angry. I'm tired. Tired of being on this emotional rollercoaster that revolves around you. And I'm scared." He paused, obviously a little surprised that he had said that out loud. But it calmed him down, for which Greg was grateful. "I'm scared, Greg. How could I not be scared? You could've overdosed, or gone so far into that world that we would never have been able to pull you out. I was so scared that I would lose you forever, and then you come waltzing in here like it's not big deal, like I should just be over it." He leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. "You had time, in rehab, to think about your life and put it all back together. I didn't have that time; I had to keep living as if nothing had happened."_

_There as a pause, but it was not as tense as previously. Finally, after a long moment, Greg looked up, tears in his eyes. "I am so, so sorry," he said softly. "Really, I am. But where…where does that leave us?"_

_Ryan rubbed his eyes tiredly, looking years older than his young self. "I don't know," he finally said. "I still love you, but I don't trust you. And you and I both know that we cannot make this relationship work without trust."_

"_So…what can I do to gain your trust?" asked Greg, feeling foolish._

_Sighing deeply, Ryan took a deep swig of his water. "Give me time," he said after a long moment. "Give me time to readjust, and prove to me that I can trust you, that I'm not rushing in to another mistake." _

And so Greg had tried. At every turn, he had tried to prove himself worthy of Ryan's trust. It had been three weeks now, and if Ryan didn't start trusting him soon, Greg was going to have to actually unpack all the boxes in his apartment.

He groaned aloud, running both hands through his hair. "Why is this so hard?" he mused aloud.

"Why is what so hard, Mr. Sanders?" asked Horatio's voice from the door.

Greg turned and smiled at his boss. "Nothing, H," he answered, his voice falsely cheerful. "Everything's great. I compared the tread we lifted from the crime scene to the suspect's shoe, and I think we have a match. See, the wear pattern on the right foot is what really—"

"Mr. Sanders." Horatio effectively cut him off. "You were thinking about your relationship with Mr. Wolfe, weren't you?"

Greg bit his lip, not really wanting to admit to daydreaming while on the clock, but also hoping to garner some advice from Horatio. "Yes," he admitted. "It hasn't gone quite as well as I hoped it would."

Horatio smiled slightly, fiddling with his sunglasses. "Give it time," he advised. "Ryan still needs time to recover, but I have noticed a change in him. Keep being patient, and he'll come around eventually."

Greg smiled, though it was a slightly exasperated smile. "If I give him any more time, we won't be together til we're sixty," he grumbled.

Horatio laughed. "Just keep on trying," he said. "You have a very…persuasive personality, and I know you will wear him down eventually." He turned and left, leaving Greg alone with his thoughts again.

"I know I'll get through to Ryan eventually," muttered Greg to himself. "But when?"

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

A few hours later, Greg saw Ryan starting to head out for the day, and he hurried to catch him. "Hey, Ryan!" he called, jogging after him. Ryan stopped and turned around, a bemused expression on his face. "Hey," panted Greg, skidding to a halt, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to catch some dinner or something."

Ryan's expression turned wistful for a moment. "I wish I could, but I've got a dinner date with Calleigh. She's been complaining about our lack of girl-talk lately." He grimaced. "Like I want to hear about her and Delko."

Greg smiled at Ryan's joke, but it didn't last long. "Oh. Ok. Well, see you tomorrow, I guess."

He turned to head back to the lab when he felt Ryan's hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Greg turned back around and quirked an eyebrow. Ryan looked almost embarrassed as he shifted his weight before suggesting timidly, "Why don't you come over around 9? Calleigh and I will be done by then, and maybe you and I can, you know…talk."

"Sure," said Greg, a small grin crossing his face despite his attempts to hide it. "We can talk. I'd like that."

Ryan smiled as well, then nodded briskly. "Ok. Well. See you at 9, then." He turned and left, and behind his back, Greg pumped his fist in a silent sign of victory.

Yes, they were only talking. No, this did not mean that anything was going to change. In fact, nothing would probably change. But hey, it was still a victory, however small. And for Greg, it was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** __New chapter, all ready to go. This is part 1 of the conversation Ryan and Greg have...meaning that the next chapter will be part 2! Also meaning, of course, that this one may be a slight cliffie...read on to find out! Usual disclaimer applies, with the added disclaimer that I do not own Dove chocolates or the wonderful little phrases you find on the wrapper. Please review!_

Chapter 2

"_Cuz I don't need boxes wrapped in strings  
And desire and love and empty things  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"_

Greg was never the prompt type. He enjoyed taking his time, often too much for more punctual people (such as Ryan and various bosses Greg had had over the years). Still, the second hand on Greg's watch slid over the twelve, making the time exactly nine o'clock as Greg rang the doorbell at Ryan's apartment.

He had bought flowers.

He felt like an idiot.

Actually, he felt like a nervous date coming over for the first time to meet some girl's father. There again, when he thought of it, that would be probably safer. After all, Ryan was authorized to carry and use a gun. Still, he reasoned, this was Florida, and a lot of fathers were also probably registered gun owners. So it may not be any safer to meet a girl's father for the first time.

All he knew, in this ridiculously tense period waiting for Ryan to answer the door, was that, more than anything in this moment, he did not want to blow this. He wanted to make this the perfect night to ease back into their relationship. He only hoped it would work out that way.

The lock on the door clicked open, and Greg straightened, trying to arrange his face into something that didn't show how desperately nervous he was. He also vaguely hoped that he didn't look like a complete dumbass.

As the door opened, he shifted the flowers from one hand to the other, pasting a smile on his face. That smile slid off his face, replaced by confusion as the door was answered not by Ryan but by Calleigh. "Hey, Greg," she said, a smile on her face as she embraced him.

Still struggling to catch up to what was going on, Greg was a little hesitant in returning her hug. "Hey, Calleigh," he said, the confusion furrowing his brow. "What're you doing here? I thought you and Ryan went out for a little girl time?"

"We did," said Calleigh, still smiling. "And then we came back here for some more girl talk and for some wine and chocolate."

"The perfect girl's night," remarked Greg, raising an eyebrow, his mouth automatically curving into a smirk.

Calleigh grinned. "You got it. Anyway, I was just on my way out. I've afraid I've been yacking poor Ryan's ear off, so I figure it's your turn." She hugged Greg again, lingering long enough to whisper into Greg's ear, "He's really been looking forward to this all night. I think that's a pretty good sign. Good luck."

"What're you two whispering about out here?" asked Ryan, mock-suspiciously, coming out to join them. "If Calleigh's sharing any more embarrassing anecdotes…"

Holding up her hands and laughing, Calleigh said, "Guilty as charged. What can I say? The wine went straight to my head." She hugged Ryan quickly before saying to both of them, "I'll see you at work tomorrow." Then, as she turned to leave, she winked quickly at Greg, who rolled his eyes in response.

Greg turned to Ryan, raising one eyebrow. "She was in a cheery mood."

"Yeah, I'll say," agreed Ryan, frowning at Calleigh's retreating back. Then he looked back at Greg, his brow furrowing. "She didn't actually say anything embarrassing about me, did she?" he asked, his voice full of constrained worry and nerves.

Hiding a smile, Greg said seriously, "She said nothing that would be embarrassing to you. Thankfully. She did say that you two had wine and chocolate, and that was as far as we got in our conversation before you came out here to join us." He paused and grimaced. "And thank goodness you did. I swear if you had left us alone out here a moment longer, the talk would've taken a nasty turn, and I would've been stuck listening to stories about Eric for an hour while you waited inside."

Ryan grinned. "I figured as much, which is why I decided it was time to break up your little party." He paused, then his smile slipped. "I'm sorry, where are my manners tonight? Come inside, please."

Greg smiled as well as he strolled into the apartment. "Before you ask," he called over his shoulder, taking his customary place on the couch, "I'll take a glass of water, please. And any chocolate, if you even have any left over after Calleigh got to it."

"You're in luck," Ryan replied as he bustled around in the kitchen. "I happen to have enough chocolate here for the two of us, even after Calleigh had some." He emerged from the kitchen, two glasses of water in hand, the bag of chocolates tucked under one arm. "Here you are," he said courteously, handing Greg one of the glasses of water.

"Thanks," said Greg, taking it. Then, he blushed and ducked his head while thrusting the bouquet of flowers that he had brought at Ryan. "And, um, these are for you. I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked best, so…I guessed."

Ryan breathed their fragrant scent in, and he smiled widely, obviously pleased with Greg's choice. "I love Gardenias," he said breathlessly, blushing slightly. "Let me just go grab a vase for these."

Still blushing slightly, Greg reached for the bag of chocolate that Ryan had set down on the coffee table. It was Dove chocolate—one of Greg's favorites. He unwrapped one of the creamy chocolates and popped it into his mouth before looking down at the wrapper. Like all Dove chocolates, it had a little saying on the inside of the wrapper. Greg raised an eyebrow as he read what it said. "Share a smile with someone you love."

Greg snorted. That wouldn't be hard. After all, he had Ryan here, and he hoped that tonight, they would be able to share a lot of smiles, a lot of laughs, and, most of all, a lot of love. Ryan walked back into the room, vase in hand. "This isn't really the right type of vase for these flowers," he said, frowning slightly as he set the vase on the coffee table. Then he looked up at Greg, raising one eyebrow. "What?" he asked.

Greg realized quickly that he was smiling at Ryan, really, genuinely grinning. He ducked his head again, but his smile didn't fade. "It's nothing," he said, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I just can't believe I'm taking the advice of a chocolate wrapper."

"Hey, don't mess with the chocolate," said Ryan, sitting on the couch next to Greg—a fact that made Greg's heart beat ten times faster. "Chocolate contains sage wisdom that escapes the minds of ordinary humans. Anyway, what did it advise you to do, young chocolate padawan learner?"

Still smiling, Greg recited, "Share a smile with someone you love."

Now it was Ryan's turn to blush, though he met Greg's eye, smiling as well. "Well, thank you," he said softly. "I appreciate the smile and the affirmation of your affection."

Greg sobered quickly, his face instantly becoming serious as he leaned forward, intensity radiating from his posture. "You know I'm serious, though, right? I really, really do love you. More than anything else in my life. And I know I haven't always made that clear, and I know that I've made some really poor choices regarding my love for you and how I handled that. But I've finally realized that I really can't live without you." Pausing, he felt his eyes involuntarily fill with tears. "I mean, you saw what happened when we were apart. I fell apart, quite literally. Granted, I had problems before that which contributed to my most recent problems, undoubtedly, but that's no excuse for what I did." He paused away, looking at Ryan, his chocolate-colored eyes searching Ryan's. "And I know that this will take time. I know that things cannot just immediately be the way they were." He broke off, a half-smile emerging on his face. "And I think if we're completely honest, we don't really want things to be the way they were either."

Ryan nodded slowly, remembering all too well the pointless fights and arguments that they had gotten in. "Yeah, I don't think either of us want to go back to that."

"But the thing is," Greg continued, reaching out to grab Ryan's hand, "if there's one thing I've realized, it's that even if I had to go back to that kind of relationship, I would take it, just so that I could be able to sleep next to you again and hold you in my arms and kiss you and do unspeakable things with you on this very couch. I would do it all over again just so that I could hear you tell me that you love me one more time. Because I've learned that that is more important than anything else in my life. Not just loving you—but having you love me."

"Greg—" Ryan interjected, but Greg cut him off.

"I'm not quite done. I still have a few things I want to say." Greg took a deep breath, looking down at his hand entwined with Ryan's. "But the truth is, I can be content with just loving you. It would break my heart everyday if I never heard you tell me that you love me again, but my life would still be complete just knowing that I loved you. And right now, what's most important in our relationship is that we're ok. We don't have to be boyfriends now or ever again, if you don't want it. We don't even have to be friends. All I want is for you to be happy. I don't care if that happiness is with me or someone else, but I know you're not happy right now, Ryan, and all I want is for you to be truly happy again."

Pausing, Greg closed his eyes for a moment. "As for me, I'm happy as long as you're happy. My life can be whole again, as long as you're happy, and that is more than enough for me."

"Are you done yet?" asked Ryan, his voice a little higher than usual and his tone sharper than Greg expected.

Greg squared his shoulders, raising his shoulders ever so slightly. "Yes, I'm done," he said, raising an eyebrow at Ryan. "The floor is all yours."

"Good," said Ryan, though it came out in a gentle growl. "Because now it's my turn."


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**__ Chapter 3! Yay! I really like this chapter, and I hope you like it, too. Again, I don't own Dove chocolates or their cute little sayings. Otherwise, usual disclaimer applies. Please review!_

Chapter 3

_"So take these words and sing out loud  
Cuz everyone is forgiven now  
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again"_

"And the first thing I want to say to you," continued Ryan, his brow furrowed and his eyes dark, "is to tell you, no, to command you, to stop being so goddamned noble."

Greg raised both eyebrows in shock, his mouth falling open. "Excuse me?" he blurted, a flush rising to his cheeks. "Stop being noble? I'm not being noble, Ryan; I'm being honest."

"Bullshit." Ryan's voice was soft, the tone almost playful, but there was steel in his voice that would not bend no matter what defense Greg gave. "Absolute bullshit. You would never be content with 'just loving' me. You may say that now, but you know as well as I do that your contentment will not last for long. It's not the way you are."

Greg's face darkened, and he glowered at Ryan. "I just poured my heart out to you, and your reaction is 'bullshit'?" growled Greg, his tone dangerously calm.

Ryan nodded emphatically. "Yeah, Greg, that's my reaction. You didn't pour out your heart to me; I know your heart well enough to know that. What you just gave me was a load of crap based on what you thought I wanted to hear. And, while it is noble and gallant of you, it's not what I want. And it's most certainly not what you want."

"Oh yeah?" countered Greg, setting his jaw in anger. "Well if you know me so well, Ryan, why don't you tell me what I really want to do?"

Leaning forward so that their faces were only a few inches apart, Ryan said calmly, "You want to fight. That's what you really want more than anything right now. You want to fight for me, you want to fight whatever it is holding me back from coming back to you, but you think that because of what you and I have gone through, I don't want you fighting for me. That I want you to give me time so that I'll come back to you." Ryan paused, his eyes glittering savagely. "Well, that's not what I want, Greg. I want you to fight for me. I want you to put your heart and soul into winning me back instead of pandering about how you're content just loving me."

Greg just stared at Ryan, his mind and his heart racing at a million miles an hour. Finally, he slumped back in the couch, shaking his head in disgust and despair. "I do not understand you," he said, only half-joking. "Just a few weeks ago, you were the one telling me that you needed time to readjust, and now you're telling me that I shouldn't give you time? Which is it? How am I supposed to know what I'm supposed to do when you keep changing it on me?"

Shaking his head, Ryan reached out and cupped Greg's chin in his hand, gently stroking Greg's cheek. "Don't you understand, you silly, stupid man? The whole point is that it's not about what you're supposed to do. There's no right way in this relationship, nothing you're 'supposed' to do. Hell, there hasn't been a right way in this relationship since its beginning. What's been most important in our relationship, what's been the driving force, is that we've never done what we're supposed to do, that we've never done the so-called right thing, but that we've done what is best for the both of us, and we've acted on impulse and we've been stupid about it, yeah, but that we have filled our relationship, our love, our lives with passion. That's what I want from you, and I know for a fact that that's what you really want, too."

Greg stared at Ryan, his brain alternately numb and on fire. Then, completely on impulse, he leaned forward, pinning Ryan against the back of the couch as he kissed him, fiercely and full of the fire and anger and all the confusion of the evening. And to his surprise, Ryan kissed him back, just as passionately, even grabbing Greg's hair as they kissed. Finally, reluctantly, they broke apart, Greg's face centimeters from Ryan's. "Passionate enough for you?" he panted, his brown eyes glowing.

"Yes," answered Ryan simply, a smile spreading across his face. "That's exactly what I was talking about." Greg grinned and leaned in to kiss Ryan again, but Ryan laid a finger across Greg's lips, stopping him.

Greg leaned back, frustration evident on his face. "What is it now?" he asked, clearly disgruntled.

Ryan gave him a look. "Just because we've figured out that we both want to be passionate together doesn't mean we've figured everything out." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Like, for instance, the fact that I still don't really trust you."

Swallowing deeply, Greg averted his eyes and nodded slowly, more to himself than Ryan. "I deserve that—I know I do. I've given you no reason to trust me." Pausing, he looked at Ryan. "So, what do you want me to do about it? How can I fix this?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What do _you_ think you should do about this? How do you think you should fix this? And I don't want to hear any noble, self-sacrificing words coming out of your mouth."

Greg couldn't help but smile at that, though his brow knitted together as he thought about it. "I guess," he said slowly, mulling over the best way to say it. "I guess if I had my way, we'd just forget about the whole thing. We'd acknowledge that it happened, we'd realize and respect the ways we have changed and evolved because of it, but we'd move on from it, looking forward to the future."

Ryan was already nodding before Greg had even finished speaking. "I couldn't agree more."

Greg stared at Ryan, again shocked by what the younger man said. "Wait, so you want to just forget about it? But what about the fact that you don't trust me? What happened to you needing to put your life back together?"

Holding up a pacifying hand, Ryan explained. "I meant all those things, and I still do. But I know, Greg, as well as you, that I can't put my life back together without you in it. And yes, I will probably have more issues than usual with trusting you as we begin this journey together. But what you said, that we need to look forward to the future—I believe that with all my heart. Focusing on this, focusing on what tore us apart—that's not going to bring us back together. Instead, we need to focus on building our life together, from scratch, a healthy, lasting relationship."

All of this sounded wonderful to Greg, but there was one part still missing for him. "But what about trust?" he asked again. "You said before that we can't make this relationship work without trust. So how do you expect us to now?"

Ryan sighed, but he looked at Greg, his face full of love. "I do trust you, Greg. Not on all things, and I believe that I have that right. But I trust you, and I believe in you enough to know that neither of us would do anything to tear this relationship apart, ever again. That, in my eyes and in my mind, is more than enough trust to build this relationship on again. The rest of the trust—that will come with time, as we build our future together. But for right now, for this very moment, I want to leave this all behind, so that we can move forward. But," he said quickly, interjecting into his own thought, "I think, and I hope you'll agree, that we should still take this slowly. Even though we're moving on from it, there is still a lot of hurt here, and I share the blame equally with you. So we need to ease back into this."

Sighing as well, Greg looked plaintively at Ryan. "So I guess that means doing those aforementioned unmentionable things with you tonight is out of the question."

"Very much so," agreed Ryan, sounding just as disappointed as Greg. "However," he added, looking slyly at Greg. "I don't think that it would be taking things too quickly if you were to kiss me again."

Greg grinned. "I hoped as much," he whispered, leaning in again. This kiss was so gentle in comparison to the last, yet somehow, the two managed to convey the same passion as before with such a gentle kiss. Greg deepened the kiss , cupping Ryan's cheek with one hand, bracing himself against the back of the couch with the other.

Ryan pulled away this time, a grin on his face but reprimand in his voice. "I think you just moved into 'too fast' territory," he told Greg, grinning wickedly.

Greg groaned and bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I swear you're doing this on purpose, Wolfe," he sighed, his voice muffled. Then, abruptly he stood, taking his water glass into the kitchen.

"Are you ok?" asked Ryan, unable to hide the amusement from his voice.

"Fine," called Greg from the kitchen, his voice still a little strained. Ryan heard the water running as Greg washed out his glass. "I just seem to sense a lot of cold showers in my future."

Laughing out loud at that, Ryan got up to join Greg in the kitchen. He wrapped an arm around Greg's waist and rested his head on Greg's chest. "Thank you," he whispered, closing his eyes and feeling so right. "Thank you for understanding."

"Of course," said Greg, tilting Ryan's head up, his own eyes burning with love. Then, he kissed Ryan very gently on the lips before wrapping him in a deep bear-hug. "I love you so much," he whispered.

Ryan grinned like a goof, even though he had the words so many times before. It was still just as magical as the first time Greg had said them. "I love you too," he whispered back, still grinning.

Greg pulled back, though he held Ryan's hand in his. "C'mon," he said suddenly, pulling Ryan back into the living room. "The chocolate had sage wisdom for me tonight, and I think it just might for you, too."

Ryan rolled his eyes, but he obligingly grabbed a piece of chocolate, unwrapping it as he curled against Greg on the couch. After unwrapping it, he popped the chocolate in his mouth, startled when Greg suddenly swooped in to kiss him. "What was that for?" he asked as they came up for air.

Grinning like a kid in a candy shop, Greg just shrugged and said, "You tasted like chocolate." Then, suddenly embarrassed, he quickly changed the subject. "C'mon, what does your wrapper say?"

Ryan read to himself, and a huge smile broke out on his face. "You were right about the sage wisdom," he said, his eyes suspiciously bright. "But somehow, I think I already got this one covered."

"Why, what does it say?" Greg pestered, trying to grab the wrapper from Ryan's hand.

Ryan just grinned, the pieces of his life falling back into place. He read it out loud for Greg, knowing that it described them perfectly, and always would. "Dare to love completely."


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** __Chapter four! I also really like this chapter. Usual disclaimer applies. Please read and review!_

Chapter 4

"_And it's someplace simple where we could live  
And it's something only you can give  
And that's faith and trust and peace while we're alive"_

Ryan woke slowly as the early morning Miami sun filtered through the blinds. He didn't immediately move, instead feeling more comfortable than he had felt in a long time. A smile spread across his face, and he rolled over to look at the reason for his comfort.

Greg was awake, surprisingly enough. In fact, he had propped himself up on one elbow and had obviously been watching Ryan sleep. Ryan felt a blush rise in his cheeks. They had just recently started spending the night together again, and as wonderful as it was, it still felt a bit strange to Ryan. He had just gotten used to sleeping by himself…not that he'd trade it, ever. He loved having Greg back in his life, and he decided to share that love, leaning over and planting a gentle kiss on Greg's lips.

Though Greg kissed him back, he also quickly pushed Ryan away from him. "Morning breath, sorry," he apologized sheepishly, his non-gelled and desperately in need of a haircut hair falling into his eyes, making him look even more irresistible than usual.

"I don't care," said Ryan, raising an eyebrow, "just get over here and kiss me."

Greg's face lit up with a big grin, and he complied with Ryan's order, rolling over so that he was practically on top of him and kissing him as if he didn't need to come up for air. This continued for a few minutes until Ryan finally broke away, laughing. "Alright, alright! I said kiss me, not murder me with your mouth."

Though a glimmer of disappointment glinted in Greg's eyes as Ryan stood up from the bed, clearly heading to take a shower, he disguised it well. "I'll go make us some coffee," he said cheerfully, heading to the kitchen.

Ryan did head to the shower, his own eyes disappointed as well. He knew what was bothering Greg, because it was the same thing that was bothering him, and it was the reason why he would be taking a cold shower that morning, like all the recent mornings before it. He and Greg had not had sex since they had been living together so long ago. In truth, it seemed like a lifetime ago; so much had happened since then.

And it was everything that had happened since then that was stopping them.

More accurately, it was everything that had happened that was stopping Ryan, and he felt guilty about that. He had told Greg that he was over everything, and was looking forward to building their future together, but the lack of trust he still had prevented him from opening himself up that much more, to that level from which there was really no return.

So for now, he and Greg would both have to resign themselves to kissing and cold showers, and though that arrangement was tentative, neither men were willing to break it, especially now that they had taken more steps forward. Greg was staying over, and Ryan had to admit that the part of his heart that he had silenced for so many months was now reveling in the older man's company. When Ryan got to fall asleep in Greg's arms, it truly felt as if everything was right in the world.

Or course, he mused as he finished his shower, everything was obviously not right in the world, or else they wouldn't have to go in to work today. Still, the general stress of being a CSI seemed to have melted away since Greg's return and their subsequent making-up (and making out). There was nothing better than being stressed from a long case and then having your true love and best friend there at your side to give you a shoulder massage or a listening ear or even just to hold you when you cried after seeing the horrors of humanity.

It also helped that every time Greg and Ryan were assigned to the same case, they solved it with more accuracy and speed than any other time in the MDPD. There was just an energy between them, an understanding that had come from hard work, sweat, tears and blood, in some cases. But mostly, it came from a newfound and deep love and respect for each other and their respective abilities. Together, they were Yin and Yang, the Odd Couple or whatever else, but they were also an unstoppable force.

And it felt so good.

It was just right, the way they worked together, the way they interacted. They were on a whole separate wavelength, but they were there together, and that was what mattered.

Like now. Greg knocked on the bathroom door and Ryan hastily wrapped a towel around his waist before opening the door and accepting the steaming hot cup of Blue Hawaiian that Greg held for him. "Thanks," murmured Ryan, drinking deeply. After he swallowed, he said, "Shower's all yours."

"Good," said Greg, pausing to kiss Ryan once on the lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

Ryan grinned dazedly and went to go find clothes to wear. Things were definitely well on their way to how they were meant to be.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Greg and Ryan strolled into work right on time. This was another counterbalance; Greg was always late, and Ryan was always early, so together they arrived on time. It was amazing that they had never discovered that particular secret earlier in their relationship. There again, Ryan thought to himself, his forehead creasing, they had probably been too busy fighting to worry about synching their schedules.

Greg noticed the wrinkle in Ryan's forehead and he asked concernedly, "What's wrong?"

Ryan's forehead smoothed out as he smiled up at Greg. "Nothing," he said quickly, then, in an effort to be more honest, "I was just thinking about the past."

Though Greg's eyes hardened for a second, he still smiled and leaned over to kiss Ryan on the forehead where the crease had been. "Let the past stay in the past," he whispered, resting his forehead on Ryan's.

A low whistle came from across the lobby of the crime lab, and Greg and Ryan looked up to see Calleigh standing there, smirking, with her arms crossed. "Get a room, would you?" she called to them, still grinning wickedly.

Greg and Ryan just looked at each other, smiling. Since their talk after Ryan and Calleigh's girls' night, Calleigh had decided that it was her single-handed efforts that brought Greg and Ryan together again. Unfortunately, this had the result of Calleigh being even more insufferable than usual, especially when she caught the two of them together.

Still, Greg and Ryan were undeterred as they made their way into the lab. They kissed quickly in the locker room before Greg headed out to a crime scene with Eric and Ryan went with Calleigh to work on a computer they had picked up from a suspect the day before.

Ryan hadn't even gotten all the way into the AV-lab before Calleigh had pounced on him, grinning like a cat that had gotten to the cream. "You've moved in together, haven't you?" she demanded, her eyes gleaming.

"What? Of course not," Ryan said, thrown off by her question. There were many conclusions that could be drawn about Ryan and Greg's relationship, but that was not one of them.

Calleigh looked disappointed for an instant, but she recovered quickly. "Are you sure?" she insisted, leaning against the counter and giving him her best Calleigh-death-stare of truth.

Ryan would've laughed out loud at the insinuation that he wouldn't know if they had moved in together or not, but his own curiosity got in the way. "I'm positive. Why in the world would you assume that we were living together again?"

This time, Calleigh's smug expression had a definite I-know-something-you-don't-know undertone, and she flipped her blonde hair, smiling. "Well, for starters," she began, clearly relishing this moment. "I'm fairly certain that you don't own a Marilyn Manson t-shirt."

Ryan looked down at his shirt, appalled not only at the fact that he was wearing Greg's shirt but at the fact that he was wearing a Marilyn Manson shirt! He must've been more distracted than usual if he hadn't noticed what clothes he was putting on. Though he felt himself flushing slightly, he said calmly, "Well, Greg's been talking for a long time about expanding my music taste, so he got me this t-shirt."

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Still, Calleigh's smug expression didn't even flicker with this new (albeit false) information. If anything, her smile got wider. "That very well may be," she allowed, though doubt colored her tone, "but you won't be able to explain away Greg's wardrobe so easily."

"Why, what is Greg wearing that's so damning?" demanded Ryan.

Calleigh smirked at him. "One of your shirts."

Ryan snorted at this. This was one thing that Calleigh would never be able to prove. "Calleigh, my wardrobe consists of solid color t-shirts," he said calmly. "Anyone could have the same t-shirts, even Greg."

"He could," Calleigh agreed, "but in your wardrobe, you happen to have to one green shirt that has a lighter green dragon emblem on it, and Greg just happens to be wearing that exact shirt."

Ryan just stared at her. "How in the Hell do you know what I have in my wardrobe?" he spluttered, utterly amazed.

Her smile was wicked as she answered simply, "I got that shirt for you for your birthday."

Though Ryan wanted to groan out loud, he settled for letting out a deep sigh. "Ok, so Greg spent the night last night," he finally divulged. "But we definitely haven't moved back in together yet." He broke off, something close to raw panic gripping his heart as he whispered, "I don't know if I'm ready for us to live together yet."

Calleigh reached out and touched his hand, all traces of smugness gone, replaced by concern. "Ryan…" she started, but then she trailed off, a sudden knowing look in her eyes. Backtracking, she asked, "Was this the first time Greg's slept over since he's come back?"

"No," Ryan answered shortly, not wanting to give away more information.

Sighing, Calleigh pushed further. "Well, how many nights in the past seven days has he slept over at your place?"

Ryan blushed scarlet and looked down at his feet as he answered quietly, "Seven."

"Ok, so you've spent every night of the past week together, and then today you come into work wearing each other's clothes?" Calleigh's eyes glowed as she summarized it. "I think it's pretty clear that you're ready to move in together again."

Still looking down, Ryan just shook his head. "I don't know," he muttered, the back of his neck still red. "On one hand, I am ready. But on the other…it's so official, you know?"

Calleigh nodded sympathetically. "I do know," she said quietly. "And that makes it really scary. But Ryan, you have to take a step sooner or later, and this is a perfect opportunity for you to make your new future together one hundred percent official."

Ryan finally looked up, even smiling slightly. "That sounds really nice," he said weakly. "But how do I go about broaching the topic with Greg?"

Looking thoughtful for a moment, Calleigh's wicked smile returned, as did the smugness. "I have the perfect idea, and it will definitely make things official…"

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Later that evening, Ryan sat at home, nervously awaiting Greg's return. His palms were sweating and his heart was pounding, all over something that was so stupid. He shouldn't be nervous about this. He shouldn't.

Too bad no one bothered telling his heart that.

He jumped about a foot in the air when the front door opened, and Greg looked at him curiously as he walked in, stooping to kiss him on the top of his head. "Jumpy much?" Greg quipped as he took his shoes off and stretched before heading straight for the couch, which he laid down, face-first, on, stretching out to his full length. "What's got you so wound up?"

Ryan swallowed nervously. "Um," he started, but it came out in a squeak more suited for dog's ears. Clearing his throat. "Um, well, I just…I wanted to talk to you."

"Is this bad?" asked Greg, not lifting his face from the couch, so his voice was muffled. "Because if it's bad, I don't want to know. We can talk about it tomorrow."

Ryan shook his head quickly, even though Greg couldn't see. "No, it's not bad," he assured him. "In fact…well, I think it's really good."

Greg rolled over just enough so that he could open one eye to look at Ryan suspiciously. "This sounds like it's the part of the story where you tell me you're pregnant," he said warily. "But I know better than that…I hope."

Rolling his eyes, Ryan sat up straighter. "No, I'm not pregnant. I am, however, trying to have a serious moment here, which is rather difficult to do when you're making jokes about pregnancy with half of your face smooshed into the couch."

Now it was Greg's turn to roll his eyes, but he sat up, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Alright, I'm serious," he said, frowning. "Now would you just spit it out already?"

Ryan swallowed, hard, then reached for the manila file folder on the coffee table. "I have a form for you to fill out," he said quietly, handing the folder to Greg, who didn't look at it. "It's for the department."

"You got this worked up over a departmental form?" Greg griped as he opened the folder. "Honestly, I could've done this later…Oh."

His "oh" about summed it up. It wasn't really surprise, or shock, nor even happiness or anger. It just…was. Then a grin spread across Greg's face, leaping into his eyes, making them glow with genuine happiness, a happiness that Ryan doubted a change of address form for the PD had ever caused before. "Are you serious?" he breathed.

Ryan grinned as well, his just slightly more tentative than Greg's. "Yes," he confirmed, his own eyes shining with joy. "I am very, very serious. I want you to officially move in with me. And for good, this time."

"Of course," affirmed Greg, leaning over to wrap Ryan in a huge hug. "Once I'm in here, you're never going to be able to get rid of me."

Laughing, Ryan allowed Greg to pull him over to the couch, even lying down next to Greg, loving the feel of Greg's arms around him. "Don't worry," he whispered, kissing Greg once. "I will never want to get rid of you."

Greg grinned, kissing Ryan as well. After a minute, Ryan asked out of curiosity, "I'm just wondering…you seemed surprised by this. So…what did you think I wanted tonight?"

To Ryan's surprise, Greg blushed deeply. "Nothing," he muttered, but Ryan elbowed him in the ribs. "Ouch, that was unnecessary, Wolfe," he growled, but after massaging his ribs, he elaborated. "I thought…it's really stupid, I know…but for a moment, I thought you were going to propose."

Ryan blanched, his eyes wide. "Marriage?" he gulped, scrambling for words. "I don't think I'm ready for _that_ particular step yet."

"Really?" Greg asked in his ear. "Because I am."

Rolling over to look in Greg's eyes, Ryan asked, "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

Greg smiled. "Very, very serious. No worries, Mr. Wolfe. I'll make an honest man out of you yet. We won't be living in sin forever."

Ryan just raised his eyebrows. "We'll see about that," he muttered, laying his head against Greg's chest. "But for now, this is perfect."

"Yes," Greg agreed, kissing the top of Ryan's head. "Perfect."


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:**__ Chapter five! New angst begins here! Usual disclaimer. Please review!_

Chapter 5

"_And the one poor child who saved this world  
And there's ten million more who probably could  
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them"_

Ryan sat at the kitchen table, cup of coffee in hand and brow wrinkled with worry. He wasn't worried about any particular thing; in fact, life was going pretty well at the moment. He and Greg had adjusted to their new living condition as though nothing had ever happened causing Greg to leave in the first place. They were experiencing their love again in a way that Ryan hadn't felt since they had met in Chicago.

Granted, they still weren't having sex yet. But this was no longer a cause of concern for Ryan. He knew that when it happened, it would happen. And he had a feeling that it would be soon. For now, they were working on getting everything else back on track before they threw sex in on top of it.

No, what was bothering Ryan was a different feeling, a sort of nagging concern that was stuck in the back of his mind but was steadily working forward, no matter how he tried to fight it. It was the unfortunate feeling that despite how wonderful everything in his life currently was, something was going to go wrong. It was that sort of impeding doom feeling that always seemed to accompany happiness.

Unfortunately for Ryan, this nagging worry tended to come true. He seemed to have a knack for recognizing when bad things were going to happen, and this was one of those times.

A gentle hand on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see Greg standing there, still in his boxers, looking adorably rumpled. "Everything alright?" Greg asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Of course," Ryan said lightly, smiling for effect. "I have you, so everything is perfect."

Greg just raised an eyebrow as he reached for the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. He took three sips and paused, closing his eyes and enjoying the flavor. When he opened his eyes, they immediately hardened with suspicion. "I don't believe you," he said calmly. "Something is bothering you, and I want to know what it is."

Ryan's face immediately lost its fake cheerfulness. There was no use putting on a show if the audience didn't believe it. "How could you tell?" he asked sourly, his expression turning to a mix of relief and frustration.

Simply smiling, Greg leaned in and kissed Ryan in between his eyebrows. "Because you get a wrinkle right there," he whispered. "I can always tell when you're worried or upset because of that one little wrinkle."

Though Ryan was deeply touched by Greg's words, his expression turned truly worried for a second. "I have a _wrinkle_?" he asked, running a hand over his forehead. "God, I'm getting old."

Greg just laughed. "I'm older than you," he reminded Ryan, "and I'm not even remotely concerned about wrinkles. Besides, you're not distracting me that easily. You're worried, and I want to know why."

Ryan sighed and looked down. "It's stupid," he said slowly. "I just…I have a feeling like something bad is going to happen. You know, like everything is going too perfectly right now, and something is going to come in and ruin that."

Greg's smile was a little too understanding. "I know exactly what you mean," he agreed. "It's like, if nothing had gone wrong for so long, than something has to happen, right?" Then his smile tightened, and it was his turn to look worried, though his concern was purely for Ryan. "But hey," he said softly, leaning in to stroke Ryan's face, "you know that nothing is going to happen, right? I'm here now, and nothing is going to stop us from being together."

"I know that," Ryan said softly, but his eyes remained downcast. "But still, I just have this feeling…"

Greg took Ryan's hands in his. "Look, paranoia isn't a feeling you can trust," he said quietly, looking into Ryan's eyes. "What you can trust is what you feel between us, and that feeling is the only thing that should matter."

Ryan opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. "Of course," he said, pleasantly. "I'm being foolish, and I know it." He paused, looking at the time. "And we are going to be late if we don't hurry. You still need to shower."

Rolling his eyes, Greg leaned over and kissed Ryan's forehead. "Yes, Mother," he muttered to himself. Then he looked critically at Ryan. "And you're sure you're ok?"

Ryan plastered a smile on his face, though his mind was far from clear. "Of course," he repeated, though he didn't believe it for a second. He knew in his heart that something was going to happen. Something bad. And soon.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. He had been working all day trying to crack the code that a suspect had encrypted his files with. It wasn't particularly complicated, but it was intensely frustrating. What was more frustrating was the fact that Greg was once again out in the field while Ryan had to stay back at the lab.

This wouldn't normally irritate Ryan; after all, Greg often had to stay in the lab to deal with overflow in the DNA lab. But today of all days, when that impending feeling of doom was still making the hair on the back of Ryan's neck stand up, Ryan just wished that he and Greg could be in the same spot so that he could keep an eye on him. Which was stupid, really, because Ryan didn't even know what this bad thing was, or whom it was going to affect.

Sighing again, Ryan slumped forward, resting his head against the cool metal of the desk he was sitting at. He couldn't focus, and if he couldn't focus, he would never be able to crack this. Sitting up, Ryan checked his watch. It was exactly four minutes after the last time he had checked his watch, which was approximately still eons away from the end of work.

Luckily, his phone rang, providing something to occupy his thoughts for a few minutes at the very least. He whipped it open and held it up to his ear, trying not to sound too bored. "Wolfe."

"Ryan." It was Calleigh, but she didn't sound happy or excited or good in general. In fact, she sounded as if she had been crying. "Ryan, there's been an accident. At the scene where Greg was working."

Ryan's heart stopped. "Wha…what?" he stammered, his mind racing with a million different thoughts as he tried to form all his questions into words. "What happened? Where is he? Is he ok?" _Please let him be ok,_ he added mentally as he waited for her response.

"The suspect returned to the scene," Calleigh said, her voice immediately switching to the efficient tone of someone making a report. "He was armed. He had left evidence behind, and he wanted it back. The scene was, as you know, in the middle of a park, so that's how he got there without us noticing. There were too many people hanging around…Anyway, he opened fire. Greg got hit. I don't know where he got shot, and I don't know how badly. A little boy at the scene also got shot. He's in critical condition. They're both at the University of Miami Hospital. That's all I know."

She sounded tired and defeated, so Ryan bit back his temper, which wanted to demand where she had been when all this was going on, and why there hadn't been an officer there to stop it from happening. He said neither of these things because he knew he wouldn't help the situation any. Instead, he took a deep breath and said calmly, "I'm going to hospital."

"I figured as much," Calleigh said, still sounding strained. "Horatio said he'd meet you there. And Ryan—" She broke off, and this time, the strain in her voice was clearly caused by guilt. "Ryan, I'm so sorry. I should've been there—"

He cut her off. "Stop, Calleigh. It wasn't your fault. Nothing you could've done would've stopped this. Now, I have to go."

"Of course," Calleigh said quickly. "Tell Greg I'm sorry."

Ryan just closed his eyes, praying that he would get a chance to tell Greg anything at all. "I will," he whispered, more of a promise to himself than to her. "I will."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Ryan got to the hospital in record time. He practically ran into the emergency room, stopping only when he saw Horatio waiting for him. "H," he said, panting for breath. "Is he ok?"

Horatio smiled at Ryan. "He's going to be fine," he said, the relief evident in his voice. "He only got grazed by the bullet. The doctor said he's probably going to be in a lot of pain, though; the bullet hit him in the shoulder, and while it was only a graze, it was a pretty deep graze."

"I'm sure it doesn't help that he can't have pain killers," Ryan said dryly, then stopped, looking at Horatio. "He hasn't had any painkillers, has he?" he asked, his heart full of a whole new type of worry.

Still smiling, Horatio shook his head. "He hasn't had any type of painkillers. Calleigh told the paramedics that he wasn't allowed to have any, and thus far, the doctors have been very good about it."

Now it was Ryan's turn to smile, and he looked eagerly over Horatio's shoulder towards the rooms. "So can I go see him?" he asked.

Horatio's smile faded. "Yes, you can see him. He's in room 152," he said, but his tone changed. "But he's not conscious. The doctor thinks he went into shock and passed out. I don't know if he's awake yet. And…" Horatio hesitated, his blue eyes saddened. "The boy that was shot at the crime scene…he died. Just a few minutes ago."

Ryan's smile also slid off his face, and he shook his head sadly. "That's horrible," he whispered. Then he looked up at Horatio. "I'll have to tell Greg," he said quietly. "He'd want to know."

Horatio nodded, twisting his sunglasses in his hands. Ryan nodded also before turning to head to Greg's room. Horatio called after him, asking, "Ryan—what are you going to say to him?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "For starters, I'm going to yell at him for scaring me to death. And after that, I'm going to tell him how much I love him. It's the least I can tell him after everything he went through today and with the news that I still have to break to him."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:**__ Chapter six! Usual disclaimer applies. Please read and review!_

Chapter 6

"_So take these words and sing out loud  
Cuz everyone is forgiven now  
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again"_

Ryan hesitated outside of Greg's hospital room, trying to control his wildly pounding heart. He could hardly contain his urge to hurl himself into Greg's arms and sob into his chest. This desire was tempered by the inclination to throttle Greg for making him so afraid.

He had come so close to losing Greg. So close to losing him forever, even closer to losing him than when Greg had walked out, or when Greg had been almost absorbed by drugs. No, this time had been closer, and more real than Greg would ever know. Ryan's nagging feeling had come true, and while he was elated that Greg was going to be alright, he still wanted to yell and scream and tell Greg never to scare him like that again.

It was a stupid. They were both cops. They both worked in active crime scenes day after day, where what happened to Greg had and could happen to anyone else. Still, Ryan was almost tempted to lock Greg in the house and make him stay in there just so he could never get hurt again.

On that note, Ryan took a deep breath, prayed that he looked at least half-composed, and pushed the door to Greg's room open. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Greg lying back against his pillow, his eyes closed and his face pale. Trying to keep from crying out, Ryan inched into the room. As he came closer, Greg blinked once, twice and then turned to face Ryan, his face breaking out into a grin. "Ryan," he breathed, reaching one hand out towards him. "Ryan, sweetheart."

Ryan's heart soared out of his chest as he looked into Greg's smiling face. Then his own face hardened into a deep scowl. "You said that nothing is going to stop us from being together," he said accusingly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Well, you being dead would stop us from being together."

Greg's grin faded slightly, and he winced in pain as he sat up. "Ryan, I'm sorry," he said softly, still reaching out for him. "You know that this could've happened to either of us. It's a hazard of the job."

Ryan's scowl did not soften completely, but he stepped forward to take Greg's hand, entwining their fingers. "I told you I had a bad feeling," he murmured, but he could feel his protests rapidly fading away as Greg pulled him closed and pressed his lips to Ryan's forehead. Ryan kissed him back, hungrily and deeply, feeling the need to remind himself that Greg was still there, still alive. He wound his fingers into Greg's hair, practically in Greg's bed.

With a gentle laugh, Greg pushed Ryan back ever so slightly, practically panting with exertion. He then scooted over, leaving a space for Ryan to actually get into the bed with him. Ryan obliged, lying down next to him and putting his arms around him, nestling his face into the crook of Greg's neck, making sure that he wasn't leaning against Greg's injured shoulder. Greg chuckled softly, shifting slightly so as to be able to stroke Ryan's hair. "I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Ryan's head. "I love you more than anything, and I know that my life would be over if I ever lost you, so I can only imagine what I put you through."

"S'not your fault," Ryan mumbled, not even bothering to lift his head or relinquish his grip. "It could've happened to anyone."

Greg's smile faltered slightly. "But it didn't," he said, more to himself than to Ryan. "It didn't happen to Calleigh, or Eric." Ryan tried to interrupt, to tell Greg that it had happened to Eric, that it had happened to Horatio, that even he had been shot in the eye with a nail gun, but Greg did not let him speak. "It always seems to happen to me, doesn't it? To you and I, I mean. There's always something in the way, something that tries to stop you and I from being together, from being happy."

Ryan sat up and put his hands on either side of Greg's face, gripping with a strength that he hoped would force Greg to see reason. "Listen to me, Gregory Hojem Sanders," he said softly, but with a strength in his voice. "There is nothing standing in the way of our happiness. Not now, not ever. The only thing standing in the way of our happiness is ourselves. If we go through life thinking that we have to watch our backs because something is going to stop us from being happy, then we will never allow ourselves to be happy." He paused, only for a moment to draw breath. "I love you with every fiber of my being, and I'll be damned if I don't enjoy loving you here and now. I almost lost you today." Ryan's voice shook, but he carried on. "I almost lost you more definitively than ever before, and that made me see more clearly than ever in my life that I want this. I want to be here with you, making every moment that we have together count more fully than the last. I don't care if it's for the next fifty years or only the next five minutes, but I want to spend the rest of our time together not thinking about what pitfall is going to be in our way next, or what obstacle we will have to face in the future. I want to be here with you, just like this, living our lives with no regrets, no fear, just love."

Now smiling again, Greg leaned forward to rest his forehead against Ryan's. "I could not agree with you more. I want to spend every waking moment with you, and if that is not possible, I want to spend my time away from you dreaming about the next time I will be with you." He paused, then smiled nervously. "That sounded really stupid, didn't it?"

"Of course not," Ryan whispered, kissing him gently on the lips. "It sounded perfect, and it sounded like it came from your heart, and that's all that matters." Greg grinned and leaned forward to kiss him as well. They deepened the kiss, enjoying this perfect moment together.

They were interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared, and both turned to see Horatio standing in the doorway, looking bemused. "Hey H," Greg said easily, pressing his cheek against Ryan's. "What's up?"

Horatio twisted his sunglasses in his hands. "I spoke to your doctor, and she said that you are ready to be discharged."

"Excellent," Greg said, grinning widely. "It will be good to get out of here. I hope you don't mind, H—Ryan and I are taking the rest of the day off."

Ryan looked shocked at Greg's audacity, but Horatio showed no surprise other than a small smile. "I assumed as much, Mr. Sanders. You both need time to recover from your injury, and you can have all the time you need."

Grinning, Greg leaned forward. "So, does this mean Ryan and I can take the rest of the week off?"

Horatio smirked at him. "Unfortunately, no. I expect Mr. Wolfe to be at work tomorrow morning, and I expect you, Mr. Sanders, to be in either tomorrow or the next day. We still have plenty of work for you to do that doesn't require field work."

Greg looked so crestfallen that Ryan pecked him on the cheek to cheer him up. Sighing heavily, Greg agreed. "Alright, alright." He sat up all the way, keeping one arm wrapped around Ryan. "By the way, when is the little boy who was brought in with me going to be discharged?"

There was silence as Horatio threw Ryan a startled look. "Did you not tell him?" he asked, and Ryan shook his head, chagrined.

"I forgot," he whispered, feeling terrible. "I meant to…and then I got distracted…"

Sensing his stress, Greg stroked his back soothingly. "What's wrong?" he asked, more to Horatio than to Ryan. "What's going on?"

Horatio sighed deeply, twisting his sunglasses more than ever. "I didn't mean for you to find out this way," he said softly. "I didn't mean for this to ever happen, of course." He looked up to meet Greg's eyes. "The little boy died. They couldn't stop the bleeding. I'm so sorry."

Ryan felt Greg's hand clench against his back, felt the barely restrained wave of emotions that permeated from every ounce of his being, and he wished that there was something he could do to help Greg. There wasn't anything, of course, except simply to be there if Greg needed him. "It's my fault," Greg stated simply, his voice barely above a whisper. "That bullet was meant for me."

"Greg, you can't"— Ryan's voice cracked—"can't blame yourself for what happened. The gunman was crazy, and he was going to take down anyone or anything in his path to get to that crime scene. It's not your fault. It's not the fault of any of the cops on the scene. It's the gunman's fault, plain and simple."

Though Greg didn't say anything, Ryan knew that he hadn't changed Greg's mind at all. He could tell by the way Greg's eyes were downcast, and his body was quivering with unspoken tension. And though Ryan's heart broke for Greg, he couldn't stop the part of him that was overjoyed that Greg was alive and was there with him.

After a long moment, Greg forced a smile onto his face, and he stood carefully, making sure not jostle his shoulder. "Well, I guess there's no point hanging around the hospital anymore," he said, falsely cheerful. He turned to Ryan, pulling Ryan to him with his good arm. "What do you say you and I head home, Mr. Wolfe?"

Ryan knew Greg was not ok, that he was only putting on a brave face for his sake, but he remained silent, only pausing to shoot a look at Horatio before following Greg out the door. The ride home was also spent in silence, though Greg cranked the radio to an earsplitting level and seemed completely oblivious to the songs that were playing. Ryan sat uncomfortably, wanting to talk to Greg but knowing that Greg wanted to do anything but talk right now, so he poured his entire concentration into driving.

When they finally arrived home, Ryan parked the car and followed Greg into their apartment, both maintaining their silence. Finally, Ryan couldn't stand it anymore, and he reached forward to touch Greg on the shoulder. "Greg," he started, but Greg cut him off in a rather effective manner, turning around and capturing his lips in one smooth move.

Ryan kissed him back, hesitantly, his body responding to Greg's advances even as his mind protested. After a moment, his mind won out, and he pulled away. "Greg," he whispered, his eyes sympathetic. "Greg, we shouldn't—"

"Every moment," Greg whispered, cupping Ryan's cheek and stroking it ever so gently with his thumb. "We promised that we would enjoy every moment that we have together. That's all I want, to enjoy right now with you."

Ryan closed his eyes briefly. "I want that too," he answered, his voice quiet. "But not today, not after what has happened. Not like this."

"Please," Greg whispered, his chocolate eyes smoldering with heat and barely concealed pain. "Please, Ryan. I need this right now."

And though Ryan knew he shouldn't, knew that this should not be the way their first time in so long happened, he allowed himself to be pulled into the bedroom, especially since he also knew that he wanted this just as much as Greg. They both needed this moment, to prove that they were still alive together, to prove that their love had not died with that little boy that took the bullet for Greg. It was an old habit, turning to sex when times got rough, but for once, as Greg and Ryan lay down on the bed together, lips and hands busy, it felt right.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **__Second to last chapter! Exciting! This chapter is a bit corny, but I love it anyway. Usual disclaimer applies. Please read and review!_

Chapter 7

"_I wish everyone was loved tonight  
And we somehow stopped this endless fight  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"_

In the days following the shooting, Ryan searched for any indication that Greg was still hurting, still troubled by the unfortunate death of the child. He hadn't found any. They had even attended the funeral, at the family's request. The boy, whose name had been Parker Smith, had wanted to grow up to be a cop. Ryan had stood beside Greg that day, his heart breaking for the silent, grieving man beside him. There was no other comfort that he could offer besides his presence, and he only hoped that it would be enough to prove to Greg how much he truly and fully loved him.

After the funeral, Ryan barely had an opportunity to talk to Greg, to see how he was doing and if he needed anything from Ryan. In fact, Greg seemed to bounce back just fine. He threw himself head-first into work, and when they were home, he alternated between spending every possible minute with Ryan and locking himself into the guest bedroom, assuring Ryan that he was working on a secret project.

Ryan was not suspicious of any wrongdoing. After all, he trusted Greg enough now to know that Greg would never again do anything that would tear the two of them apart. Of course, that didn't mean that Ryan lacked an insatiable curiosity about just what Greg was planning.

It didn't help that Calleigh was clearly in on the plan. She walked around with a smug expression on her face for almost a week before Ryan finally snapped. They were working on a case together, and he couldn't take the way her mouth curved into a satisfied smirk every time she saw him. He glared at her. "You know something, don't you?"

For a moment, she was completely blank. "I know something about what?" she asked, genuinely confused as to what Ryan was referring.

This didn't convince Ryan, and he kept the death glare going. "You," he said slowly, "know what Greg's planning. He's let you in on the secret, which is why you've been walking around all week like a cat that's gotten the canary. Well, I'm tired of it. So spill."

Now the look on Calleigh's face changed rapidly from confusion to satisfaction to forced innocence. "Who, me?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. "I don't know anything. I have no idea what you're talking about. I am nothing more than a guiltless bystander. I know nothing. Greg would never let me in on a secret that big."

With that said, she turned tail and ran, leaving the room while calling over her shoulder, "I gotta go talk to H about something. I'll be back later!"

Ryan grumbled under his breath as he ground his teeth in frustration. That girl knew something, and it was making him peeved, to say the least. His frustration only deepened when his phone beeped, revealing a text message from Greg that read, "Nice try!"

Sighing heavily, Ryan closed his phone and slipped it in his pocket, then stood. He wasn't going to sit around waiting for Calleigh to come back. He needed to head to autopsy and get his results from Alexx, and that would hopefully take his mind off of whatever secret Greg had.

Or, at least, it should have, but since he walked into Autopsy and saw Calleigh and Alexx giggling together, it soured his mood entirely. Calleigh looked up when he walked in, turned bright red, and headed out the door without saying anything to him. Ryan took her place in the morgue, standing next to the DB with his arms crossed. "Did you have a good chat with Calleigh?" he asked sardonically.

She didn't even try to meet his eyes or keep a straight face. "Yes, I did, actually. We had a great chat about how you are freaking out about whatever Greg's planning."

"Good to know that you enjoy talking about me," he snapped.

Alexx rolled her eyes. "We're both worried about you, baby. We're worried that you're winding yourself up so tight that you're not even going to be able to enjoy what surprise Greg has in store for you."

Frowning slightly, Ryan asked incredulously, "This thing that he's planning is for me?"

Now it was Alexx's turn to look incredulous. "Of course he's planning this for you! What did you think? You're his entire world, baby. Of course he's doing this for you." Pausing, she reached out to rub his arm gently. "Really, baby, what did you think he was doing? What did you think he was planning?"

"I don't know," Ryan whispered, his mouth beginning to creep into a smile in recognition of the truth. "I didn't know what to think. I thought he might be having a meltdown and trying to hide it from me, and then once it was apparent that he was planning something, it bothered me that he wasn't sharing it with me. We've worked so hard to be together that to have him cut me out of this part of his life was driving me crazy."

Alexx's smile was a little too understanding. "I know, baby, but trust me, this is worth waiting for."

"It's that good, huh?"

"It is more than that good."

Ryan couldn't help the grin that spread over his face; it was more from relief than anything. He had been so worried that Greg was planning something stupid or, to be frank, dangerous. He realized now that if Greg had been planning something like that, there was no way he would've told Calleigh or Alexx. Once again, he had jumped to a conclusion without looking at the evidence. In his personal life, he was the worst CSI ever.

He found himself wandering through the lab, not sure what he was looking for, but he knew what it was when he found it. He walked straight into the work room, right up to Greg, and put his arms around him and kissed him deeply. Greg returned the kiss, but broke it off after a minute, leaning back a little to look at Ryan concernedly. "Is everything alright?" he asked quietly, his dark eyes worried.

Ryan looked down, still feeling foolish. "I'm sorry," he whispered, blushing. "I'm sorry that I doubted. I know that I promised to trust you, but I'm an idiot. I get so blinded by all my stupid doubts and fears that I don't even take the time to consider all the evidence, and then I make mistakes and jump to stupid conclusions, and—"

Greg cut him off, one eyebrow raised and the hint of smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. "Ryan, love, what are you talking about?"

"Your stupid…whatever you've been planning!" Ryan blurted exasperatedly. "I thought you were planning something stupid, or worse, dangerous, and I didn't stop to think about you wouldn't tell Calleigh—"

This time, Greg cut him off by kissing him deeply, practically pinning him against the examining table. Then he pulled back, resting his forehead on Ryan's. "Ryan, sweetie, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I've been running around this week acting like a chicken with its head cut off, and it's perfectly understandable that you would be concerned, especially after…after what happened. But I promise you," he continued, stroking Ryan's cheek with one thumb, "I am fine. And this surprise is going to be the best of your life."

"Really?" Ryan couldn't stop himself from asking, though it caused him to blush again.

Greg just grinned and kissed him once more. "Really." Then he pushed Ryan away. "Now go! I've got work to do, and I know you won't be this excited when you're late coming home from work tonight."

As Ryan left the room, he reflected on that. He would be that excited and that happy, no matter what time he came home from work, knowing that he was coming home to the best and most amazing man on the planet.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

That Friday, Ryan had just finished wrapping up the case he was working on when a rap sounded on the layout room door. He glanced up to see Eric standing there, grinning at him. He stuck his head in the room. "Hey, Wolfe, you'll never guess who's asking for you at reception. Some old-fashioned chauffeur is here for you, and he has this note for you."

Ryan took the card from Eric, noting that it had clearly been open and read. He glanced up at Eric, who just shrugged and grinned. "What can I say? Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction—"

"Brought it back, yeah, I know," Ryan grumbled, but his own interest was stirred, and he pulled the card from the envelope. He read it to himself, feeling a giant grin spread over his face.

"_Dearest Ryan,_

_This chauffeur will take you home so that you can get changed (don't worry, an outfit is already prepared for you), and then he will take you to meet me for your surprise. I can't wait to see you, my love, because I know that you will love what I have planned for the evening._

_All my love,_

_Greg_"

Ryan looked up to see the chauffeur waiting for him. Eric hadn't lied—the guy was definitely dressed in old-fashioned chauffeur garb, right down to the white gloves. He bowed slightly when Ryan saw him. "Mister Wolfe, I presume?" the chauffeur asked in a clipped British accent.

"Yes," Ryan answered, blushing when his voice squeaked.

The chauffeur bowed slightly again. "If you would be so inclined, I shall show you to your vehicle for the evening." Unable to say anything, Ryan just nodded, his eyes wide as saucers as he followed the chauffeur outside.

His eyes got even wider and his jaw dropped open as he saw the car waiting at the curb. "Is that…is that a Bentley?" he gasped, practically salivating at the gorgeous, mint-condition-looking car.

"Yes, sir," the chauffeur answered, opening the back door for him. "A Bentley S1, to be exact. It's in prime condition, I assure you."

Still gaping, Ryan clambered into the back. "Greg hired a Bentley?" he asked out loud, trying not to think of how much money his boyfriend had spent on this ride, or even more so, this entire night. But he managed to put the thought out of his head as he saw people on the side of the street stopping to stare at the car.

He could hardly contain himself all through the car ride home. He wanted to call Greg so badly, to hear his voice and tell him how excited and thankful he was for the beautiful car ride, but he also didn't want to ruin the ambiance of the evening.

Once they finally reached Greg and Ryan's apartment, Ryan literally ran inside to find what was waiting for him. A black garment bag lay on the bed, with another card sitting on top of it. This one hadn't been opened, and Ryan sat down on the bed, opening the card with trembling fingers.

"_Dearest Ryan,_

_You know that to me, you are the most beautiful man in the world, and that I would find you just as beautiful whether you were wearing a suit and tie or a ratty t-shirt and sweats._

_Still, I thought you might want to be a little more dapper for this occasion. I can't wait to see you in this._

_All my love,_

_Greg_"

Without a hint of hesitation or trepidation, Ryan unzipped the garment bag, gasping quietly when he saw what it contained. There waiting for him was a gorgeous black tuxedo, crisp and fresh and begging to be put on. Ryan didn't think he had ever dressed so quickly, but he knew a quality tux when he saw one, and this was quality. He tried to resist peeking at the tag, but he couldn't help himself, and subsequently almost had a heart attack at what he saw. Dolce and Gabbana. He was wearing Dolce and Gabbana! And he knew from the perfect fit that it had been tailored for him.

Again, Ryan tried not to think about the money Greg had spent on this, or, more importantly, where Greg had gotten the money. Greg had told him that he had a fairly generous trust fund from his parents (especially since he was an only child), but Ryan had not suspected that it was _this_ generous.

He pushed the thought from his mind and straightened the lapel of the jacket as he stood in front of the mirror. In Greg's words, he looked dapper. He looked liked something straight out of the 1950s, like old-school James Bond. He looked _good_.

When he had finally managed to calm himself down so that he was no longer to the point of hyperventilating, he walked outside to see the chauffeur standing in the exact same position that he had been when Ryan left. As soon as Ryan came outside, the chauffeur bowed slightly and asked, "All ready, then, sir?"

"Yes," Ryan answered breathily, barely recognizing his own voice. He got in the car and closed his eyes, not even looking to see which way they were going. This evening was already so incredible that he could hardly think of how it could get any better.

Soon enough, though, they had reached their destination, and Ryan got out of the car before the chauffeur could even open his door, more amazed than ever. A huge yacht was docked in the harbor in front of him, the kind of yacht that he had only been on when investigating a crime scene. He heard footsteps behind him, but only turned when he heard Greg say quietly, "Thank you, James. I'll call when we're done."

"Of course, Mr. Sanders," the chauffeur answered quickly, ducking back into the car as Ryan threw himself into Greg's arms.

"Greg, this is amazing!" Ryan exclaimed. "How did you plan all this? How did you pay for all this? And where the hell did you find a yacht like this?"

Greg grinned and pulled Ryan to him, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Well, now you know why I've been running around all week, planning this. And don't worry about how I paid for this. As for the yacht, I know a few people in Vegas who know a few people, and one just happened to have their yacht here and was more than accommodating." Pausing, he leaned back to examine Ryan from head to toe. "God, Ryan, you look amazing," he breathed, leaning in again to kiss him.

Laughing, Ryan pulled away slightly, his face flushed. "You don't look too bad yourself," he said, noting Greg's tux with an appraising eye.

Still grinning, Greg offered Ryan his arm. "What do you say we board this fair vessel and get our evening underway?"

"I think I would like that very much," Ryan answered, grinning madly as he took Greg's arm and walked with him onto the yacht.

After a three-course dinner and several glasses of wine and champagne, Ryan and Greg snuggled on the side of the upper deck of the yacht, looking at the stars. "They're beautiful," Ryan murmured. "You can never see the stars this well from in the city."

Greg smiled wistfully. "No, you can't." Then he grinned and kissed Ryan's neck. "You're beautiful too, you know." Then, abruptly, he stood, offering Ryan his hand. "C'mon, what do you say we dance?"

With that, a band stepped onto the deck, instruments in hand, and began playing, soft and slow, while the singer began crooning. "A live band?" Ryan asked, grinning. "You have no shame, Sanders."

Greg just pulled him up and into his arms. They danced together just like that for several songs, wrapped in each others' arms, with no need for words between them.

Then a new song started, and Ryan knew something was different instantly because Greg suddenly tensed up. Ryan didn't even know what the song was; he didn't think he had ever heard it. Greg obviously had, because he sang the words in Ryan's ear.

"When the world wasn't upside down  
I could take all the time I had  
But I'm not gonna wait when one moment can vanish so fast  
Cuz every kiss is a kiss you can never get back"

In response to Greg's singing, Ryan burrowed his head deeper into Greg's shoulder. He had never felt happier or more secure than he did in this moment, here with Greg.

"Lift me up  
In your eyes  
If you told me that is what Heaven is  
Well, you'd be right  
I've been waiting forever for this  
This is the night"

This certainly was the night. Ryan had never had a night like this, had never been treated so well by anyone. He loved that after all the time they had spent together, Greg could still surprise him as completely as he had tonight.

"When the answer to all my dreams  
Is as close as a touch away  
Why am I here holding back what I'm trying to say?

Lift me up  
In your eyes  
If you told me that is what Heaven is  
Well, you'd be right  
Hold me close  
To your heart  
I would go with you  
To the ends of the earth and we'll fly  
I've been waiting forever for this  
This is the night"

Ryan noticed a difference in Greg's voice, in his posture, even in the way his heartbeat seemed to quicken against Ryan's ear, which was still pressed to Greg's shoulder. Leaning back slightly, Ryan looked Greg deep in the eyes, seeing all the love that was there.

"This is the night where we capture forever  
And all our tomorrows begin  
After tonight, we will never be lonely again"

Greg leaned in and kissed Ryan deeply, leaving the singing up to the singer of the band. Though Ryan kissed Greg back, in the back of his mind, he knew that this was leading up to something. This was the night—but the night for what?

"Lift me up  
In your eyes  
If you told me that is what Heaven is  
Well, you'd be right  
Hold me close  
To your heart  
I would go with you  
To the ends of the earth and we'll fly  
I've been waiting forever for this  
This is the night"

Greg broke off the kiss, pulling away gently but reluctantly. He swallowed hard, suddenly looking nervous. "Ryan, you know I love you more than anyone or anything else in this world. And we promised that we would make every moment together for the rest of our lives count. So, Ryan," he continued, reaching into his pocket, "I had a question to ask you."

He got down on one knee and opened a ring box in one fluid motion, so that Ryan almost didn't know what was happening. "Ryan Wolfe, will you do me the honor of being my husband, so that together we can make every moment count?"

Ryan was at a loss for words. "I…I don't know what to say," he said honestly, his head spinning. Marriage? He had never once honestly considered marriage; for a gay man in Florida, that wasn't much of an option. But here, and now, with Greg at his side, he had to consider it, and he had no clue what to say. He looked down at the simple silver ring in the box, and stretched a hand out towards it. "May I?' he asked.

"Of course," Greg said quickly, handing the box over. "There's an inscription on the ring—just there."

"The best is yet to be," Ryan read out loud, his voice breaking.

Greg's voice was soft as he said, "It's from a Robert Browning quote. The full quote is, 'Grow old with me! The best is yet to be." He paused for a moment, and then he asked, his voice so quiet that Ryan could barely hear him. "So what do you say, Ryan? Will you grow old with me? Will you make our love one hundred percent official, no going back and no walking away? Because I want this, Ryan." His voice got louder as he continued. "I want us to be married more than anything else in the world. I want to be eighty years old with you, living in the nursing home together, whatever. I want us to be together forever, and I want to make it official, for all the world to see." Pausing yet again, he asked again, "What do you say?"

Ryan knew, before the words ever came out of his mouth, what his choice would be. He had known ever since meeting Greg; he had known ever since their first kiss, their first fight, from the way his heart broke so completely when it seemed like they were through, and from the way it mended so quickly when Greg came back, and even now, from the way it beat in sync with the man in front of him. He knew what his choice was, because for him, there had never been a choice. "Yes," he whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:**__ This is the last chapter. Boo. It's been a fun story to write; I love Greg and Ryan! Usual disclaimer still applies as per always. Please review!_

Chapter 8

"_So take these words and sing out loud  
Cuz everyone is forgiven now  
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again  
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again"_

When Ryan's cell phone went off the next morning, he uncharacteristically buried his head under his pillow and groaned. He had been having the best dream. Greg had taken him for dinner on a yacht, and dancing, and then he had proposed…

Ryan looked down at the ring on his finger and a grin lit up his face. It hadn't been a dream. It had been reality.

Leaning over, he kissed Greg's still half-asleep form on the lips. "Good morning," he whispered, still grinning wildly.

"Good morning," Greg muttered, squinting his eyes against the bright light of the Miami sun. He sat up slowly, still squinting, and nodded in the direction of Ryan's phone. "Aren't you going to answer that?"

Ryan rolled over and glared at his phone. "Yeah, I guess," he said, sighing deeply as he reached for it. He checked the display and grimaced. "Ugh. It's Calleigh. I'm sure she's calling because she wants the scoop from last night."

Simply grinning and stretching, Greg stood and shuffled towards the kitchen. "I'm just glad she called you and not me," he said as he went to go make some coffee.

Though Greg couldn't see, Ryan stuck his tongue out at Greg's retreating back before flipping his cell phone open and answering. "Good morning, Calleigh," he said dryly, settling back into his seat for what was sure to be a long conversation.

"Ryan." Calleigh's voice didn't sound excited, or happy, or any of the things he figured it would. "It's about time you picked up the phone."

Ryan frowned deeply. It wasn't like Calleigh to be this rude this early in the morning. "Well, you woke me up from sleeping," he retorted, his forehead creased. "Since, you know, I was tired out from my big night last night," he added, thinking maybe she would get the hint.

"Well, while you were having a 'big night' last night, murder was still happening in Miami," Calleigh snapped. "We've got a big case, high profile with multiple DBs. We're all being called in to work on this one, so don't even complain about going into work early. This was supposed to be my day off."

Ah. That explained Calleigh's foul mood. Ryan sat up instantly, switching into professional mode. "Where's the scene?" he asked, standing and getting clothes out from his closet.

"The scene's already been taken care of," Calleigh said. "Eric and I were out there early this morning. We need you and Greg to come into the lab and start running some tests. We've got a ton of stuff that needs to be fingerprinted, and Valera's running late, so we need Greg to come in and get started on some biologicals."

"Of course," Ryan said, already dressed and ready to go. "We'll be in as soon as we can. Greg," he called into the kitchen as he hung up. "We've got a case. We're needed in the lab immediately. Put some clothes on; we need to hurry."

Greg finished his coffee in one gulp. "Sir, yes sir," he said, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and putting them on. Ryan grabbed two travel thermoses and poured some coffee in them, handing Greg one and keeping one for himself.

The ride over to the lab was quiet and tense, with both men concentrating on the task ahead. When they got to the lab and got out of the car, however, Greg surprised Ryan by pinning him against the car and kissing him deeply. "Greg, what—" Ryan started, but Greg cut him off.

"I love you," he said simply. "And this looks like it's going to be a long and stressful day, so I wanted you to remember that."

Ryan smiled at him. "Well, thank you," he said, kissing him back. "But in case you forgot, last night, you showed me that you loved me in more ways than I could ever forget. And thank you for that." He looked down at his hand and smiled. "Sometimes we all need reminders. And now I have the best one of all."

Greg grinned and kissed him. "The best is yet to come," he whispered, weaving his fingers through Ryan's as they turned and walked into the lab.

The first thing Ryan noticed was how quiet the lab was; normally, for a high profile case like this, the place would be buzzing with all the extra help. Oddly, he didn't see anyone. "Where is every—"

"SURPRISE!"

Ryan jumped a foot in the air as all his coworkers and friends came out of their hiding spots. There were balloons everywhere and a banner that said, "Congratulations Greg and Ryan!" Ryan looked accusingly at Greg. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

Greg just grinned and held up his hands innocently. "It was all Calleigh's doing. You know how she is—once she gets started, there's no stopping her."

Rolling his eyes, Ryan turned towards the woman in question, who was strolling towards him with a giant grin on her face. "Congratulations," she said smugly, satisfaction obvious on every facet of her face.

Ryan didn't smile. "What if I said no?" he asked quietly, his expression somber.

Calleigh's face went from smug to horrified in 3 seconds, and the din of the surprise party deflated to silence. She stared at Ryan, completely shocked, and then, without warning, she hit him. "Ryan Wolfe"—smack, slap—"how dare you"—punch, whack—"say no?!"

"Ow!" Ryan said, laughing, holding his hands up in a weak attempt at self-defense. "Calleigh, I said yes! I was kidding!"

Though she looked taken aback for a second, she quickly began her second barrage of attacks. "Ryan Wolfe, don't you dare do that to me ever again!"

Greg, chuckling to himself, slipped away from his fiancé, heading over to where he saw Horatio standing. "Congratulations, Mr. Sanders," Horatio said in greeting, offering him his hand to shake. "I expect you'll take good care of him."

There was an implied threat in that comment, but Greg just smiled. "I will," he promised. "In sickness, health, and whatever else may come our way. After all," he added, leaning against the wall and smiling grimly, well aware of the bandage still on his shoulder from his most recent wound, "we've come this far, and that was more than half the battle."

"When were you thinking of getting married?" Horatio asked, and then, in a softer tone, "and where were you planning on getting married?"

Greg chose to answer the first question first. "We don't have a specific date in mind. Basically, it'll be whenever all of us and all of the Las Vegas crime lab can get time off, since I want all my Las Vegas friends to be there."

Nodding, Horatio agreed, "Of course." Then he fell silent, obviously doing some mental calculations. "Obviously, it will depend on case load, but I can try to take of things so that you can get married in, say, a month or so? I'll call Mr. Grissom and ask if that works well for them."

"Sounds great, H," Greg said, grinning. Then his grin faded slightly. "And, well, I hope this won't be a problem for anyone, but we were thinking of getting married in California. Before the November election, of course, just in case they decide to pass the amendment to the constitution."

Horatio looked thoughtful, but he said, "I don't think that should be a problem for any of us. Eric might be the only one, but I assume you'll take to him about it.

Greg nodded quickly. "Of course."

Horatio smiled and clapped him on his good shoulder. "Well, then, I wish you all the best, Greg. You've become a true member of our team. Good luck," he said before he left, putting his sunglasses on as he went. Greg smiled slightly. Horatio Caine never stopped working, no matter what the celebration.

He was startled by someone coming up beside him. He was even more surprised to see that it was Eric. Granted, Greg had always gotten on well with the entire team, but there had always been a bit of strain between him and Eric, strain inherited from Ryan's relationship with Eric. So while Greg was not entirely shocked that Eric had sidled up next to him, there was still an inherent wariness as for Eric's motives. The dark-haired CSI didn't meet Greg's eyes. "So you and Wolfe, huh?"

Greg shot him a sideways look, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Me and Wolfe?" he repeated. "Well, yeah, Eric. We've been dating for a long time now, and it was about time we made it official."

"I know that," Eric said, giving him a look. "I just mean…you and Wolfe. Making it official. Getting married. I mean, this is going to screw everything up, isn't it? Like, you know that you and Ryan can't work on the same shift anymore, or anything like that…" He trailed off, looking off into the crowd. "What if your entire relationship was built around work?"

And suddenly, Greg realized that Eric was not talking about Greg and Ryan; of course, he was talking about the one thing that Calleigh also couldn't shut up about: Eric and Calleigh. Well, at least this was a fairly neutral topic, and one that Greg did have a little bit of experience in. "Well," he said slowly, weighing his options in his mind. "Yeah, things can get pretty screwed up. I mean, it's hard working with someone who you're dating. And, trust me," he added, grimacing, "it's really hard when you fight, or, worse, when you break up. But here's the thing." Greg lowered his voice, letting it take on the still-slightly-amazed inflection of a man in love who was still marveling at being loved back. "If you love them, really truly love them, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters, because at the end of the day, you have each other. And that is all you need."

Eric wasn't looking at him, and Greg didn't have to follow his gaze to know that he was looking at Calleigh. "Thanks, man," Eric said, his voice distant. "I'll see you later. Oh—congratulations."

Greg leaned against the wall, a contented grin on his face. Another person came up beside him, but Greg wasn't surprised, even when this person snuck an arm around his waist. He turned to smile at Ryan, who in turn rested his head on Greg's shoulder. "Did you have a good chat with Eric?" Ryan asked.

Still smiling, Greg leaned over and kissed the top of Ryan's head. "I did, actually," he said, happiness radiating from every surface.

"You seem happy," Ryan remarked, looking up at him, a smile stretching across his face.

"I am happy," Greg said, leaning over again to kiss him fully on the lips. "And you're happy. We're happy." Pausing, he looked over to where Calleigh and Eric stood together, talking and laughing. "With a little help, maybe they'll even be happy soon. Things are finally as they should be."

Ryan grinned, resting his head on Greg's chest. "Yes they are," he murmured, as Greg's arms tightened around him. "Yes, they finally are."

**FIN**

_**A/N:** I don't know if this is the end. There is a sequel that I have plotted out, but I just don't know. Ryan and Greg finally have a happy ending, but, you know, I don't feel like it's THE happy ending. The final one. We'll see. Thanks to everyone who reviewed or even just everyone who read. This beast started as one story that's now mutated into five, with a possible sixth (and maybe even seventh!). _


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